


Three Things at a Time

by inabroomcloset



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: F/M, Idk what im doing with this, Keyword; tries, There will be more characters, Tony Stark tries to be a parent, he's learning, tags will be added as they appear
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2018-12-19 06:47:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11892288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inabroomcloset/pseuds/inabroomcloset
Summary: Before he met Peter Parker, Tony knew exactly three things about the boy.-Post-Homecoming, Tony deals with the responsibilities that come with introducing a teenager to the wider world of heroism. Half of the difficulties that come with those responsibilities stem from the fact that Tony, despite his extensive research and resources, knows next-to-nothing about this webslinging, motor-mouth of a child.





	1. Prologue

Before he met Peter Parker, Tony knew exactly three things about the boy.

One; he was young.

Very, very young. Still into Lego young. Immature, hoodie-wearing, zit-having, candy-eating young. 

Two; he was smart. 

Midtown Science was a school for intelligent kids. Parker wouldn't have been there if he wasn't intelligent. He wouldn't have been the top of his class if he wasn't intelligent. Tony wouldn't have made a note in his personal log to get the kids opinion on an adjustment to the chemical make-up of a binding agent he'd designed if he wasn't an intelligent kid. 

And three; he was Spider-Man. 

Which was the part that really interested him. 

A hero that popped up randomly, no flash, no news, just some grainy videos on YouTube, and reports from twelve years olds who swore a guy in goggles stopped their bus from being totalled. 

His pitiful excuse for a suit only told Tony that his powers, whatever they were, were legit; there was nowhere to hide Iron Man style strength-enhancements under that hoodie. There was never a flash of repulsor beams. There was just his hands and his feet and the amazing webbing that allowed him to swing across the city in a way that almost had Tony jealous. 

It took him less than a week to figure out who the Spider-Man was, tracing points of origin from the time it took for him to get to places in the city he had chosen to protect. There was also the small fact that he was never sighted before three in the afternoon. On weekdays. 

Tony hesitated on the idea, of recruiting a teenager, and with the way the Superhero-Sphere was going, he wanted to leave the kid out of it for as long as he could. Still, the day he found the identity of the orphan from Queens, with a knack for chemistry and particular love of Star Wars, he began drawing up specifications for a suit that would meld to his particular needs. 

He hoped by the time he gave it to him, his teen years would be almost over. 

But hopes played no part in the way the world went and Tony met Peter, still only knowing three things.


	2. The First Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony sniffed. "Well...what do I do?"
> 
> A crease formed in Happy's brow, and if Tony didn't know any better, he'd say his friend was unimpressed with him. (He did know better. This was definitely the unimpressed face. It was one of Happy's most common assortment of features. That and annoyance. There was a very fine line between the two.)
> 
> "You go..." Happy lifted both arms and gestured towards the lab, "and talk to him."

When around Tony, Peter tried to show as little negative emotions as possible.

The giddy, happy, excitable kid that had been dragged to Germany, was the kid that Peter forced to the front of his mind every time Tony Stark(!) requested his presence. 

He wasn't sure why, but he felt that, for some reason, he couldn't let this man, this legend, see him as anything other than a stable, dependable, emotionally-mature person. (The outburst he'd had that led to his suit being taken away probably had something to do with it, but Peter understood his own emotions about as well as he understood ancient Greek; i.e. he didn't.) Which meant keeping the not-so-fun emotions at bay when around his life-long hero.

Which annoyed the shit out of Tony. 

He'd lingered in the teen angst stage of his life for longer than most people, and in all honesty, he didn't want to have to relive it through the teenager he'd accidentally befriended. (He liked to say 'accidentally befriended' because it sounded better than 'inducted him to fight a supreme idiot'.)

Which is why, when he called Peter to the compound to re-fit his suit and he arrived with his usual boyishly excited smile plastered over red-rimmed eyes, Tony squinted, sighed and didn't ask. 

"Down to the lab, kiddo." 

Peter seemed to straighten, his shoulders pushing back, happy that Tony didn't remark on that fact that he'd obviously been crying and with an annoyingly staged amount of joy, skipped down towards his favourite room in the building. Favourite room because it was one of the few rooms Tony gave him access to. The other accessible ones were decidedly unexciting; kitchens, bathrooms, lounge areas. 

The training rooms were out of bounds, the storage rooms were out of bounds, the garages (for both the cars and jets) were out of bounds. 

Which left the lab. Peter's favourite room. 

Tony looked at Happy, eyebrows raised. "Did you yell at him in the car? Did he put his feet on the seats again?"

"No, he-"

"Did he ask you to play godawful music? Tell me it wasn't some of the Beaver guys stuff."

"Bieber." Happy corrected, then pulled a face at himself. "Why the fuck did I say that? Never mind. And no, I didn't yell at him. He looked like that when I picked him up." 

"Oh." Tony hadn't considered an non-Happy related situations in which Peter might cry. "Great. He say anything to you?"

"Nope." Happy shrugged. "He got in, mumbled a hello then put up the partition. Normally I have to do that part, so something must really be wrong."

Tony sniffed. "Well...what do I do?"

A crease formed in Happy's brow, and if Tony didn't know any better, he'd say his friend was unimpressed with him. (He did know better. This was definitely the unimpressed face. It was one of Happy's most common assortment of features. That and annoyance. There was a very fine line between the two.)

"You go..." Happy lifted both arms and gestured towards the lab, "and talk to him."

"But I don't want to. Talk to him. About whatever this is. I'm not good at feelings. You know that, for gods sake, remember when you cried that one time and I had DUM-E pat you on the back because I didn't know what else to do? I'm averse to feelings, allergic, and if I try and talk to the kid about his scary teenage emotions, all I'm gonna do is create an awkward situation and DUM-E doesn't want to pat anymore backs."

"Okay, no DUM-E." Happy practically shouted, rubbing his forehead. "Just...let the kid talk to you. Don't say things. Say no things. Just listen."

"I can do that. I mean, I can try to do that."

Happy shook his head, before turning and walking towards the other end of the facility. It's not that he really had anything to do, he just didn't want to be around for what would happen next. He'd probably hear all about it while driving the kid home, and then hear all about it again when Tony had three or four drinks in him. 

"What if he doesn't wanna talk?" Tony yelled across the empty space.

"Then leave him alone!" Happy shouted back, not bothering to turn around. "Also, I thought we agreed to never talk about that time I cried!"

"You asked, I agreed to nothing!" Tony smiled, stepping towards the doors to the lab. 

Peter was hunched over a bench, three screens lit up around him, detailing all kinds of specs for the suit, a piece of paper becoming a mess of scribbles beneath his fast-moving fist. 

"You take a look at the new idea for-"

"Yep." 

Tony bit his lip. "Did you have anything you think should be added to-"

"Yep." Peter slid the piece of paper he'd been scribbling on towards Tony, eyes not lifting. 

Tony snatched at the piece of paper, barely able to read the high-school scrawl, but picked up on some of the physical components he hadn't considered in his redesign and mentally incorporated them into the suit he was going to build. 

Peter was tracing doodles with his finger on the hard surface of the bench. 

Tony watched him for a moment, before coughing loudly. "You know, the, uh, very advanced screens in front of your face have an art program, where all the beautiful things you're drawing on my workbench could be made visible to the human eye. Would you like me to show you how to access them?"

The teenager swung around in his chair to face Tony, severely unimpressed, eyelids hanging heavy. 

Tony glanced around the lab, at the multiple things he'd set up in preparation for his time with Peter, then back to the kid who looked ready to cry, fall asleep, or both.

"Um..." He swallowed, shoved the piece of paper back into Peters hands, and turned towards his own bench. "That looks good. I'll, uh, modify the designs. Or you can modify the designs. You know how to modify them in the digital program, right? Yes, you do, I showed you how to do that months ago." He shook his head at his own stupid rambling. What was he doing? Happy said let the kid talk, not talk the kid to death. 

He glanced over his shoulder, to where Peter had turned back around and was soundlessly tapping at the blue-print like specifications for his new suit, his movements decidedly unenthusiastic. 

Fuck it. "You okay, kid?"

"Yeah." Was the too fast reply. 

Tony shook his head. "FRIDAY, all screens off." Peters hand froze where it was in the middle of changing one of the design dimensions, the screen now a blank piece of glass. "Look at me, kid." 

Slowly, he twisted in his chair again. He sat up, the tiniest bit, as if that could change the completely dejected look he had about him. 

Tony sighed. "I'm asking kid, for real, are you okay?"

"I'm fine." He said, and forced a smile onto his face. 

Jesus, it almost looked like it hurt. Tony was used to Peters smile, he saw it that often. The kid practically lived with a smile on his face, smiling at every person he met, smiling when he tried out new web combinations, smiling when he ate. It was a good smile. Tony liked it. He liked when he was the reason for it (no, he did not get a nice feeling low in his stomach every time he made Peter laugh) and he knew that this, whatever Peter thought he was giving him in that moment, was not his smile. 

"Come on, Pete." He shook his head. 

The smile cracked. He shifted, fingers twisting around each other, and looked at the floor, at the ceiling, at the Mark 56 hanging in the corner, but not at him. 

"Did something happen with May?"

"What? No." He sounded almost incredulous at the question, which Tony took as a good sign. He had no doubts about May's parenting skills, but it was good to get confirmation sometimes. "No, it's just..."

"Just what?" Shut up, he screamed in his head. Let the kid fucking talk. 

"Flashshovedmeinalocker."

"Too fast kiddo."

He looked up then, looked Tony right in the eyes, and he could finally recognise the expression. Shame. 

"Flash shoved me in a locker."

"What's flash?"

Peter rubbed his nose. "Flash Thompson, he goes to my school. He doesn't like me very much, which is fine and all, because usually he's too scared to actually do anything, it's always just words, but today he got some of his friends and they shoved me in a locker and I couldn't fight back cos I thought I'd lose control and I'm a lot stronger than them now and I didn't wanna hurt them so I let them do it, but once I was in there, I freaked out and-"

"Pause." Tony stepped towards Peter and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. "Some assholes shoved you in a locker." 

"Yes." 

"And it scared you."

"A little bit, but I think mostly-"

"Hey, hey, hey." Tony shifted his hand to beneath Peters chin and lifted his head so the kid would look at him again. "It's okay for things to scare you."

Peter blinked. "I wasn't scared of being in the locker." 

"Then what?"

"It felt like I was under the building again. It was just so small and squishy and I couldn't move much. I think I broke it when I got out. Like, I smashed the door off the locker." He hesitated, then his eyes widened. "Oh my god, Flash is gonna remember which one he put me in. He's gonna see that it's broken, and he's gonna know I did it, and he's gonna tell the principal and May is gonna have to pay to get it fixed, oh god-"

"Slow. Down." Tony stepped back and crossed his arms over his chest, eyes trailing up and down Peter, who sat there in silence. "A guy has been bullying you, but not physically, so you thought it was okay, and then when it got physical, you were more worried about hurting him than protecting yourself, and then you got shut in a small space, and had a panic attack. Sound about right?"

Peter nodded. 

"Well, there's three problems there."

"Did I do something wrong?"

Tony sighed a laugh. "No, kid. You didn't." He moved towards the screen, flicked his fingers to bring them back to life, and swiped away the suit designs to bring forward a blank space. "But here's the problems. One; you thought it was okay for some guy to verbally assault you. News flash - it's not." 

Peter opened his mouth to protest. Tony shut it with the raising of a single finger. 

"Two; you thought you'd lose control and hurt someone if you fought back." His words appeared on the screen. Evidently, FRIDAY was taking notes. "That ones on me. I've been so focused on what you can do in the suit, I forgot everything you can do without it, and you probably need some proper hand-to-hand training and lessons on control. Correct?"

His eyes brightened a little at that, and he nodded excitedly. 

"And three." Tony leaned against the bench. "You need help." 

"I-what?"

"Trauma is a serious thing. Believe me, I'd know. I also know that there are healthy ways with dealing with it, and unhealthy ways. Now, like a sensible adult, I have already done a case study on the unhealthy ways and deemed them unfit for you, meaning you now have some choices to make."

"Huh?"

Tony sighed. God, he was doing that a lot these days. "The Vulture dropped a building on you. That's traumatic. You need help dealing with that, so that, and please don't let there be a next time, but anyway, so that next time someone shoves you in a locker, you don't freak out and think you're trapped under a building. It's called PTSD, kid. You have it. You need help." 

Peters eyes flicked around the lab again, avoiding Tony's gaze. "But I-I'm Spider-Man. I don't need help."

"Peter." Tony didn't use his name often enough, so when he did, it drew attention. Avoiding stare met concerned gaze. "Everyone needs help. Even Spider-Man. Even me. I can, uh, find you someone to talk to, get you an over-the-phone shrink or something, if you like, something for emergencies, or you could tell May-" Peter's gaze hardened. Okay, May was not an option. "Or, you could talk to me." 

His jaw tightened, eyes dropping to his feet. "Thanks, Mr Stark." 

"You're welcome." Not the way he was planning on this day going, but here they were, talking about feelings, and Tony, despite the minor discomfort tickling the back of his throat, actually felt good about it. "Now, about those designs, FRIDAY pull them back up, wanna show me what you had in mind?"

Peter smiled, his real smile this time, and the nice feeling low in Tony's stomach threatened to make its way up his spine and form a matching smile across his cheeks, so he turned towards the screens, back to the kid, who then sidled up beside him. 

They stood, and sat, and at one point, lay on the floor, for hours, tinkering until Happy interrupted, saying it was time for the drive back or May would have all their heads, and Peter jumped to his feet, slung his bag over his shoulder and marched towards the car, his eyes no longer red, his steps a little less heavy. 

"Anything I need to be worried about, boss?" Happy asked. 

"Nope." Tony said, bringing up the specs for his own suit. "Nothing for today."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya, heya, heya, this is my first time writing Peter and Tony. I just wanted to try something a little different. And, no, this will never be romantic Peter/Tony, don't worry (if that's what you were looking for, soz and go away). 
> 
> Nyway, lemme know if they feel in character to you, and if ya think this is any good <3


	3. Fight, Feet, Future

"You want to teach him to what?"

"I want him to learn control, May."

"Why does he need to learn control? He'd never hurt anyone."

"That's my point. He'd never hurt anyone on purpose, but he might by accident if he doesn't learn to control his strength." Tony paused, thinking. "You do know he has super-strength, right? He told you that part?"

"He told me everything." She said, and Tony had to stop himself from telling her she was wrong in that regard. Peter had told her enough to keep her satisfied, and left out the things hat would make her worried. It made Tony feel naughty, like he was complicit in the lie and did nothing to help May learn the truth, but they were Peters secrets to tell, so he kept his mouth shut. "I know he's stronger than normal, but...what does that mean? For him?"

"It means everyday issues can't be dealt with normally." Tony rubbed his forehead. "Someone shoves him at school, he can't shove back because then he might send a kid flying through a wall. He needs to learn to use his strength in a controlled manner, in a way that's proportionate to the situation." He could hear her nodding. 

"Okay. But only twice a week. Every time he goes upstate to see you, he comes back feeling bad that he missed patrol, and tries to make up for it by staying out later the next day, then he doesn't get enough sleep and it's just a big mess. So, twice a week. Only. And no fight training either. Just self defence and control."

"Yes, ma'am." 

She let out an amused breath. "And make sure he eats something while he's with you, please. He won't ask, won't tell you he's hungry, but he needs to eat."

"Noted." He hung up the phone. 

Twice a week was good enough. 

"FRIDAY, bring up my schedule. And Peter's. Put em side by side." School hours were a non-option. There was no way in hell May would let Peter skip school to Spider train, and there was no way in hell Tony would ask that. (After hearing the kid turn down the Avengers deal, Tony did some serious thinking and realised that he was trying to push the kind of things onto Peter that had been pushed onto him. Excellence at a young age. He also realised he didn't want Peter turning out anything like him, and if he could go back and un-make the offer, he would.) 

Weekdays, after three, and weekends. Weekends were probably off the table. Weekends were May time. 

"FRIDAY, re-do my schedule, clearing everything after three o'clock on Mondays and Wednesdays." The boxes rearranged themselves. Peter had after-school decathlon practice on Tuesdays. He handled patrolling pretty well, balancing enough time for school work, but three days in a row of after-school activities was probably too much. "Change that to Mondays and Thursdays." 

Rearranged again. "Schedule 'Training' into the empty space." Text crawled across the screen. "What'd you think? Looks good?" 

"Looks better than you, boss."

"Rude." He scratched his cheek. "Alright, send a copy of that to Peter, and a copy of mine to Pepper. Let her know not to schedule any meetings in those times, they're non-negotiably un-free. Send her some flowers too, while you're at it." 

"Will do, boss." 

The screens dimmed. 

He needed to call Rhodey. 

All of Tony's personal hand-to-hand training had been given by world-renowned experts who were more than happy to plaster Tony's face across their pamphlets with phrases like "I trained Iron Man. Want me to train you too?" Peter didn't need that. Or at least, Spider-Man didn't need that. He needed subtlety. And he needed people who specialised in his particular circumstances. Very particular circumstances. 

Which meant Rhodey, with his endless list of army-vetted contacts. 

He pulled out his phone, and saw it blinking, an message waiting to be read. 

**That looks awesome Mr Stark. I'll defs be able to do that.  
** **Once I check with May.**  
**She said its fine.**  
**Are we starting this week?**  
**As in tomorrow?**  
**Or you wanna wait til Thursday?**

He smiled to himself. Over eager little bunny.

**Tomorrow. Straight after school.  
** **Happy'll be waiting.**  
**Don't forget to bring your suit.**

He exited his messages and flicked over to contacts, thumb hovering over Rhodeys numbers, under the name Honeybear when another message appeared on the screen.

**Awesome!!!  
I won't forget it. **

He clicked on Rhodey's number. 

"Rhodes! I need a favour."

The two trainers Rhodey recommended were intense. He brought them over to the facility himself that night, to go over details, payments and non-disclosure agreements, which they were more than happy to sign under the watchful eye of the Lieutenant Colonel. Tony informed them of the need for silence on everything that went down in the training rooms, then in a less-than-subtle threat, informed them of his ability to monitor all the information that passed through their phones and computers. They took the threat with less than a blink. 

"We understand, sir." Daniels, an expert in CQC, told him. "We recognise the Spider-Man as what he is, a necessity, and are more than happy to assist."

Wylder, one of the Air Force Superhuman Specialists, nodded in agreement. 

"Well, good." Tony sat back in his chair. "Just...don't talk that way around Spider-Man. You'll freak him out into thinking he has to be super respectful, and then he'll hold back. We don't want him holding back." 

"No, sir. We don't." Wylder almost grinned, as if excited for the prospect of actually sparring with a superhuman. 

Rhodey told him later that the Superhuman Specialists were a contingency plan. The government insisted on there being a division designed especially to handle those with extraordinary powers, despite the limited information they had access to. The scientists of the armed forces had analysed every scrap of video available relating to the way those with enhanced strength fought, to come up with ways to wear them down, but even that was limited and untested. 

They'd never actually gotten the chance to fight a superhuman. (In his head, Tony imagined this was a good thing. But the lack of solid information the armed forces had about superhumans just solidified the fact that what he did was necessary. He couldn't retire when the only back-up plan was unprepared. Thinking about it made him very tired.)

"Just...watch them closely." Rhodey said, shoving pizza in his mouth. "They'll probably be more excited than the kid, and that's saying something." 

"Yeah. You shoulda seen how many texts he sent me when I told him what we were doing." 

"I can imagine." 

They sat in silence for a moment, pizza box on the floor, next to their feet, considering what was happening in less than a days time. They were about to give the excitable little boy formal army training. 

"Maybe...maybe I'll stick around. For the training." Rhodey turned to look at Tony. "Just to survey it. Make progress reports and all that. I know you probably have other things to do, besides watch. So, I'll stay."

Tony gave his oldest friend half a smile. "Sounds good to me."

Happy looked like he was in pain when he showed Peter towards the training rooms. Tony stood outside the door, his arms crossed. 

"Uh, trainers are in there already, so you might wanna suit up. Unless you're cool with them knowing what you look like." 

Peter raised his eyebrows. "I'll-I'll suit up." Tony nodded to a door a little further down. 

"Bathroom. Leads into the training room. Join us when you're ready."

He pattered off towards the door, and Tony turned to Happy. 

"What?"

"What what?"

Tony poked Happys cheek. "You have a face."

He rolled his eyes. "He. Would. Not. Shut. Up. The whole drive. He sat in the front seat because like an idiot, I didn't get out of the car to open the back door for him, so he sat in the front and then just talked the entire time."

Tony nodded with fake understanding. "Uh huh, well, get used to it. You've let him in the front once, he'll never settle for the back seat again. And these ventures are scheduled. Twice a week. Not changing. Enjoy the chatter." He patted Happys shoulder and flung open the door to the training room, stepping inside with three sets of eyes on him. "Spider-Mans here. Just getting changed."

"Cool." Daniels said from where she was warming up. Rhodey sat in the corner, doing something on his phone and Wylder was reviewing information on one of the screens. From where Tony stood, it looked like scientific reports. He almost wanted to tell the other man that whatever he was expecting the next few hours to be like, he was wrong and the information he'd learned would probably be no help. But Tony hadn't hired him for his good looks, he'd hired him because he knew things about superhumans, so he let him read in peace. 

A door creaked open on the other side of the room, and a bright red head poked out. "Hi."

"Spider-Man!" Tony waved him forwards. "Come on in ki-sir."

Peter faltered a little at that, but stepped into the room. Tony gestured towards Daniels. "She's going to teach how to fight people off without getting punched in the face, as you so often do." Daniels gave a small wave. "And he-" Tony pointed at Wylder, who had turned off the screen and was standing at attention, "is going to try to teach you how to be strong as hell without killing people."

"Key word being try." Wylder stepped forward, a hand extended. "It's an honour to meet you, Spider-Man. I'm Lieutenant Matthew Wylder, US Air Force."

Peter hopped forwards and shook his hand. "Thank you, sir." 

Wylder nodded, then stepped to the side, allowing Daniels the space to introduce herself. "Captain Iris Daniels." 

"Nice to meet you." Peter shook her hand too, then turned to Tony. 

Tony shrugged. "You already know me." 

If he hadn't been wearing the mask, Tony was sure he would've seen a very dramatic eye roll. "What, uh, what do we start with?" He asked, crossing his arms over his chest. 

"How about a strength demo. Let them see where you're at, assess you, and then they can decide from there." Tony flopped down on a chair next to Rhodey, who nodded. 

Which is how Tony learned that Peter had really, really, been holding back. 

He was strong. Like, monumentally strong, which Tony knew (he'd seen the video of him catching the speeding car) but even with the Berlin mission and all the other things Tony had seen him do, Peter had never revealed the full extent of his strength. And it was extensive. 

Wylder stood in the corner, next to Daniels, his mouth falling open from time to time, eyes glued on the red and blue figure who threw around hundred kilo weights as if they were feathers. 

Tony glanced at Rhodey, who was watching just as closely, but with a more dignified closed mouth. "He's a lot stronger than we thought, huh?"

"Yeah." He glanced at the boy, still showing off for the trainers, then back at Rhodey. "You think they can handle it?"

"You think we can handle it?" Rhodey raised his eyebrows. 

Tony sighed. "I have no fucking idea. But we're in this now, or at least, I am, so-"

"Hey, if you're in, I'm in. You know how this works." 

Tony gave him a soft smile. "We're in this. He needs us, so there's no pulling out now." 

"You've never been the kind to pull out." Rhodey quipped and Tony almost choked on his spit. 

"Necessary?"

"Nope." Rhodey grinned, then leaned down to turn on his braces. They used a lot of power, and if they remained on for too long a time, they began to heat up. Tony was already building a new pair but for now, they had to do, and Rhodey had learned to turn them off every time he sat down. "But I'm hungry. You want anything?"

"Nah, not yet." Rhodey nodded and walked toward the exit, eyes still following Peter's erratic, uncontrolled, but impressively, insanely strong movements. This was going to be a long process. 

Rhodey returned to Wylder desperately scribbling information in a notebook and Daniels pulling Peter through some basic hand-to-hand defensive stances. He almost fell over, his balance in shambles, his focus solely on the hand movements. Daniels didn't correct him, either unfocused on that detail, or unbothered in light of the fact that this was to be the first of many, many lessons. 

Tony had his eyes glued on Peters movements, barely noticing when Rhodes sat beside him. "You good?"

"Hm?" His eyes snapped away for a second, he shook his head, blinked, then turned back to the training floors. "Yeah." 

"Tones. You're a shit liar." 

"I am a fantastic liar. Last week, I convinced an entire group of tourists that I wasn't the real Tony Stark, that I'd had cosmetic surgery to look like him. They thought it was very good surgery." 

"Are you okay?" 

He fiddled with the edge of his shirt. "He had a panic attack. The other day."

Rhodey shifted to look Tony directly in the face. 

"Some idiots at his school shoved him in a locker and he had a panic attack because when he told me how dangerous the Vulture was, I didn't listen enough and I took away his suit and the psycho dropped a building on him, so now he's probably claustrophobic, and has to deal with all of that shit while still going to high school, where people are shoving him into lockers."

"He gets bullied at school?"

"Yeah. That's part of why I wanted him to do this. Not just for the...spidey part. He can't defend himself because he's terrified he's gonna hurt one of the people hurting him." 

Rhodey blinked. Tony had put a lot of thought into this. His degree of thought usually coincided with his level of care for the person involved, and while he knew Tony cared about the kid, mainly because he had dragged him into the messy superhero world, he didn't realised the care went beyond his superpowers. He didn't care exclusively about Spider-Man. 

No, Tony cared about Peter Parker. In a way that was insanely personal. 

Tony just hadn't realised it yet.

Rhodey sighed. "So, this crazy genius kid is getting bullied at school by people who don't understand the difficulties he's facing in the other parts of his life."

"Yep." 

Rhodey bit his lip to keep the grin away. "Sound like anyone you know?"

"No, should it?"

"You, dumbass."

Tony turned then, tearing his eyes away and gave Rhodey a look that practically screamed 'stupid'. "What? You think this kids like me?"

"Tony..." Rhodey pointed at Peter. "Complicated parents." He pointed at Tony. "Complicated parents." Back at Peter. "Bullied halfway to hell." Back to Tony. "Bullied halfway to hell." Peter. "Life outside school not understood by anyone." Tony. "Do I have to keep going?"

Tony shook his head. "That kid...that kid is nothing like me. He's...he's not like me. He's good, a-and kind, and he just wants to help people."

"Oh, I'm sorry, what do you want to do exactly?"

"Invent an alcohol that doesn't leave a hangover."

"I'm being serious." And he was. His serious face was on. And while they were talking in hushed whispers so that the three other people in the room couldn't hear them, Tony had the distinct impression that if he could be, Rhodey would be yelling right now. "That kid reminds you of you. He reminds me of you. And the sooner you admit that to yourself, the sooner we can get on with helping him."

Rhodey was right, Tony knew. As usual. 

Somehow, this poor as dirt orphan from Queens was like the teenager Tony had been, once, before a lot of damaging things happened and turned him into the disaster he was. 

And he knew, right then, that he wouldn't let Peter turn into him. 

"Well..." Tony sniffed. "That was enlightening. I need to take notes." 

"Notes on what?"

"On what to tell the kid. I'll forget if I don't write it down."

He pulled out his phone, and his thumbs began tapping, a million miles an hour. Rhodey caught sight of the words and grinned to himself, albeit, a little sadly.

_Things to tell the kid_  
_1\. Stop holding back._  
_2\. Plant your feet._  
_3\. Don't turn out like me._


	4. A Royal Welcome

There was a month of relative peace. 

Not worldwide, god, that was the fucking dream, but worldwide peace didn't exist, and Iron Man was deployed at least once a week. 

But in the compound, with Peter around, Rhodey was there more often, Vision left his room frequently, Pepper seemed to find excuses to be there (usually to bring them all food) and everyone felt mostly at peace. With each other, with everything that had happened beforehand, and everything that may happen in the future. 

That feeling seemed to grow on the day the King of Wakanda pulled up outside the compound in a very expensive looking car and something like a smile on his face. 

It was past seven, the two air force trainers having gone home for the night, and Peter, Tony and Rhodey were sprawled across one couch, Rhodey's braces discarded on the floor, his legs laid across Tony's lap, feet almost poking Peter in the face from where he was leaning on Tony's shoulder. 

Something mindless played on the TV, the volume turned down to almost nothing by Rhodey when he noticed Peter was practically asleep. A glorious chocolate smell had filled half the building, courtesy of Pepper, who had decided Peter should learn to cook something, from someone besides May (she'd sent cookies with Peter to the compound one week. Tony spent half the night puking. No one told Peter.) and Peter had asked if they could make cupcakes. 

They were glorious cupcakes, most of them gone by the time Pepper had deemed them cool enough to eat. The woman herself was perched in an armchair next to the very full couch, tapping away at her laptop, scheduling the next days work. (Her and Rhodey had discussed the curious effect Peter seemed to be having on Tony, and a small part of her wondered if the happiness that now existed around her fiancée would've emerged sooner if they'd ever decided to have children.)

"There's a vehicle approaching." FRIDAY informed them, shattering the quiet, chocolate gooey atmosphere. Peter shot straight up, eyes wide with non-awakeness, his forehead crashing into Tony's chin. 

"Ow." Tony said, the word more of a reflex than a reaction. 

"Sorry!" Peter squeaked, rubbing at his eyes. 

"Who is it FRIDAY?" Pepper asked, ignoring the disasters on the couch. 

"There're no plates on the car. Window tinting is making it hard for me to get a facial scan, boss." 

Pepper glanced at Tony, who glanced first at Peter, then to Rhodey, as he reached down to the floor for his leg braces. 

"Uhh, Pep, take Peter into one of the secure rooms-"

FRIDAY cut him off. "It's King T'challa, boss. He appears to have a gift."

Peters eyes widened. "The...the King? Of Wakanda? The Black Panther?"

"One and the same." Rhodey said, smiling at the boys happiness, before thinking about what he was asking. "Wait a sec, you've met him. In Berlin, he fought on our team."

"Well, I didn't meet him meet him. I tackled rogue avengers alongside him, but I didn't know who it was until I got home and looked him up. Then I kind of screamed cos I had just fought next to a bloody king, and I scared May so I told her there was a spider in my room, and then I started laughing, cos spider, and then May thought I had a concussion and tried to make me go to the hospital..." He trailed off, staring at something on the other side of the room. 

"Ah." Rhodey threw Tony a glance. This was going to be really interesting, or really bad. 

"Okay, all of you just," Tony looked at Peter and shook his head, "stay here." He trotted off towards the entrance of the compound to greet his royal guest, whose escort was holding what looked like a very well-protected case. 

"Mr Stark." T'challa gave the slightest nod. 

"Your highness." Tony nodded back, albeit a little lower. Was it still customary to bow to royalty? He didn't know, but it was probably not best to find out by offending an ally. "What can I do for you? If you wanted to send me gifts, I do own an airline, I can arrange free shipping, save you the trip."

T'challa cracked a smile. "I shall remember that for next time. Although, in this case, the trip is a necessity. There is someone here I must speak to and it is not a conversation that a phone call could facilitate."

Tony chewed on his lip. "Mind if I ask who? I mean, I'm hoping it's me, but I'm a selfish ass, so I hope everything's about me."

"I'm afraid it's not you." T'challa tipped his head towards his escort. "May we come in? I feel my friend would like to put down his package."

"Depends on what's in it."

"It is like you said; a gift." 

Tony looked inside, towards the lounge area, where his three people were sitting, eyes on the conversation at the door, but too far away to hear what was being said. He nodded and gestured towards an empty table for the attendant to place the case on, which he did in complete silence. Tony stepped towards it, but T'challa held his hand out. 

"I didn't say it was a gift for you." 

Tony forced an expression of mock hurt onto his features. "I invite you into my house and you just..." T'challa grinned. Tony grinned back. "Who's it for?"

"Peter Parker. Your Spider-Man."

Tony felt an immensely silent kind of calm settle over him. "Excuse me? Who?"

"Do not offend me by pretending that my ability to find information is any less than yours, Stark. I had not heard of the Spider-Man until Berlin, and I admit that, in that time, my focus was elsewhere. But I have since done my research, and I would like to meet the boy." 

"No."

T'challa stiffened. "I did not believe there would be an argument over this." 

"Peter isn't a member of the Avengers, he's not a public figure, and he is very particular about who he reveals his identity to. You know, as does your 'friend'," Tony gestured to the escort, who stood very close to his king, face turned away from the conversation as if that would make a difference to his ability to listen. "and that's already more people than he ever planned on telling. Please don't embarrass him by showing him how easy it is to find out who he is."

T'challa's mouth quirked, and the anger forming on his face dissipated into something else, something unfamiliar to Tony. "You are trying to protect him."

Tony clicked his jaw. 

"I can assure you, I mean him no harm. Quite the opposite, as I believe this," He tapped on the case, "will prove."

There was a silence, a tense one, that stretched on for what felt like centuries, before Tony sniffed and turned towards the lounge area. "Kid! Come here, will ya!"

There was a loud bang, the distinct sound of someone groaning, Pepper's tinkling laugh, and then soft, quick, sock-covered feet were padding across the floor towards them. 

"Ye-uh-yes Mr Stark?" He asked, the all too familiar nervous stutter plaguing him. "Wow, um, King T'challa, your highness, sir, um, hi."

Tony gestured for Peter to step closer, then slung his arm around the boys shoulders. "Peter, King T'challa. Your highness, Peter Parker."

"T'challa will do." He extended his hand towards Peter, who stared at it for a second before realising he was meant to shake it. 

"Oh, sorry, oh, thanks, thank you, T'challa, sir."

Something soft made its way into the kings eyes. "Before we speak, I need you to understand that I have very extensive resources, and it is by no fault of your own that I discovered your secret. In truth, I was curious as to who was behind the mask in Berlin, and it has taken me considerable time to discover your true identity." Tony got the feeling T'challa was emphasizing the difficulty in tracking Peter down to give the kid some confidence in his disguise. He appreciated it, for some reason. 

"Oh, so, uh, so yo-you know about..." Peter looked at Tony, who nodded, both a confirmation and permission to say the words. "You know that I'm Spider-Man?" 

"Yes." He smiled. "I am sorry if you did not want that information revealed, but I like to be aware of all individuals I am associated with." He looked at his escort, a silent order, then back to Peter. "And I have something I'd like to give you."

"Y-you got me a present?" 

"Mm." The escort stepped towards the case, pressed a few buttons, and it opened with a dramatic pop. Peter took a step towards it, eyes wide and excited and peered inside. A breath caught in his throat. 

"Is...is that..."

"Vibranium." T'challa moved towards Peter, that feline grace almost unnerving in a way that made Tony extremely jealous. "We have it in abundance in my country and upon viewing your abilities in battle, I know you to be a fine fighter. Perhaps not as well trained as you could be, but there is time to improve on that. However, this," He leaned into the case and pulled out the glass box full of the glinting metal. "This is for your suit. I witnessed some of the injuries you suffered, on the news a few weeks ago. A man attacked you with a knife, and it tore right through your suit." He glanced at Tony. "There is a method of thinning the metal to create strands that may be entwined with other materials. To make them stronger."

"Like your suit." Peter whispered, awe coating his words.

"Yes, like mine. I will say that yours will not be as reinforced as my suit, though. You will not be bullet-proof. I understand that your powers depend greatly on mobility. To create a suit like mine may limit some of your natural powers. However, you will be protected more sufficiently than you are in the suit you currently have."

Peter seemed to be having trouble forming words, his mouthing dropping open, then closing, eyes flicking between the metal and the King whose hands held it. 

Tony dropped his hand on Peters shoulder. "This is the part where you say thanks, kid."

"Thanks, kid." Peter whispered. Then his eyes grew twice as wide as normal and he began sputtering an apology. "No! I-I didn't, uh, I me-mean sir, King T'challa, I-th-thank you. Thank you. Sir. Your highness."

T'challa tipped his head back a little and breathed a laugh. "You are welcome, young man." He turned and handed off the vibranium to his escort. "I believe I interrupted your evening. Please, return to whatever you were doing-"

"Nonsense!" Tony waved a hand, and turned towards the lounge. "You can't travel all the way out here to spend three minutes with me. I won't have it." 

Peter gave T'challa a shy smile before walking off behind Tony. The king took it as a sign to join them. He motioned for his escort to stay. 

Rhodey had his braces on by the time T'challa made it to the lounge area, standing just behind Peppers chair, where she had gone back to work. 

"Colonel. It is pleasing to see you in good health." T'challa held out his hand, which Rhodey shook with fervour. 

"Same to you, Your Highness." 

Tony flopped down onto the couch with a bang. Everyone ignored him. 

"I must say, your recovery has been impressive." He glanced at the metal casing Rhodey's legs. "I have some similar technology back home. Perhaps Mr Stark and I should compare notes, with your input, to see if there are any improvements I can help with."

Rhodey gave a half smile. "Thank you." Pepper took that as her cue to stand.

"Your Highness." She bobbed her head. "We haven't met. I'm-"

"Miss Virginia Potts." He extended his hand to her, and she shook it with a strong delicacy Peter couldn't begin to comprehend. 

"Pepper." She corrected him.

"Pepper." He affirmed, glancing down at their still joined hands, more specifically, at the glinting ring sitting on her fourth finger. "I heard the reports, but with all the fuss surrounding you," He threw Tony a sly glance. Tony smiled as if it was a compliment. (With the way his mind worked, he probably thought it was.) "I was unsure whether it was true or not."

Pepper lifted her hand to her face, exposing the ring more obviously, as if in admission. "True. Amazingly."

"Then I offer congratulations." He gave her a nod, eyes drifting. The space they were in was small, a cosy room in such a big building, with a hallway in the corner, the entrance behind the and not much else. Peter watch the king closely as he surveyed the room, lingering on the hallway for a moment. 

"Have, um," He hesitated, as everyone turned their attention to him, and he felt so incredibly insignificant in the room of royals, soldiers and billionaires. "Have you b-been here before?"

"No." T'challa shook his head. "We did not have the luxury of time in my previous encounter with Mr Stark." 

Peter looked to Tony desperately. Tony raised his eyebrows as if to say _You started this line of questioning. Finish it._ Peter coughed, then allowed his gaze to return to the king. "Would you...would you like a tour?"

T'challa smiled. "Very much." 

Tony watched, saw the excitement in Peters posture and knew he had to step back from this one. The kid wanted to show off to the king. "I'll sit this one out. Got some work to help Pepper with."

Pepper frowned. She hadn't needed his help with work. Ever. 

"Some work I need Pepper's help with." He adjusted. She rolled her eyes. "You got this, right kid?"

Peter grinned and nodded fervently. "Y-yeah. Sure." He gestured to the hallway. "Your highness."

"It's T'challa." The king sighed, but his features remained happily entertained, and he strode towards the hall, Peter following close behind, already babbling away about the facility. Tony watched them go, eyes lingering on the now-empty hall for probably a moment too long. Pepper and Rhodey saw, but said nothing, as Tony flicked his attention to the television and turned up the volume on the nonsense that had sent them all to sleep earlier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Response to this has been amazing! I love all of you who have read, left kudos and comments. <3 Hope this chapter lives up to the others.


	5. Panic! in Front of a Hero

Tony knew Peter was lying to him when the bill for his over-the-phone therapist came in. 

In that, there was no bill. (There was a bill. It was a very fancy piece of paper, with the company name emblazoned on the top. Tony's problem was with the section that said charges, and it added up to zero.)

Peter hadn't called them once. He'd said he was dealing with it. But he hadn't called them once. 

The day came around for Peter to train, but before he could change his mind, Tony sent messages to his two on-the-payroll air force trainers and told them to take the day off. Daniels responded with a quick 'yes sir'. Wylder sent a sad face. Tony didn't respond to either. 

When Happy arrived, Peter began to make his bolt for the bathroom, to change and get into his training as quick as possible. Tony stood in front of the bathroom door, his arms crossed. He didn't mean to be imposing or scare the kid. He just didn't know how else to stand in front of a bathroom and not look like a creeper. 

"Um..." Peter skidded to a stop. "Something broken in there?"

Tony shook his head. "We need to talk, kiddo." 

Peter's jaw tightened. "Bout what?"

"Come on." Tony gestured for him to put down his bag. Peter unceremoniously dropped it to the floor, eyes still fixed on Tony, worry plaguing his features. "You're not in trouble, I just gotta talk to you about something." 

He took an unsteady breath, but followed Tony into the lounge area, his hands gripping the ends of his faded t-shirt. 

They sat side by side on the couch in silence for a moment, and Tony heard Peters breaths begin to tighten. "It's alright, kid. I promise you're not in trouble." 

He nodded, but it was awkward, and when he looked at Tony, there was distinct fear in his eyes. 

"Hey." Tony rubbed his hand down Peters arm. "You okay?"

He nodded again, lips pressed shut in a thin, white line, eyes staring, waiting for something. 

"I just...wanted to talk to you about your anxiety, but it seems I'm...giving you anxiety." 

Peter let out a breath, but his bottom lip trembled as he did, and Tony was almost sure he was about to cry. 

"I am, aren't I? Jesus. Shit. Um." He leaned back, carding a hand through his hair. "Shit. Let's uh...let's just not, um, I mean," Peter lifted his fingers to his face and scratched desperately at his cheek, as if he could scrape away the feeling. "How bout we talk about something else?"

Peter opened his mouth, maybe to respond, but only a small choking noise made it's way out, and Tony felt the kids pain. He stopped breathing. 

"Fuck!" Tony slipped off the couch, landing on his knees right on front of Peter. "Shit. Uh, kid look at me." Peter tried miserably to suck in a breath, but it sounded like there was something caught in his throat (there wasn't). "Kid look at me." His eyes met Tonys, and along with the fear and anxiety, there was that emotion that had been there when he'd confessed to Flash's torments; shame. "It's okay. You're okay." 

His hands trembled, fumbling at his shirt, trying to get a grip on something. Tony decided to make that something him. He held his hands in his, encasing them, protecting them, trying his hardest to will the shaking away. 

"You're alright." 

Involuntarily, tears built up and spilled from Peters eyes in a matter of seconds, and fuck the universe for letting it happen, the sight of it made Tony want to cry too. Sure, he'd seen the kid upset (the sound of his voice the day he took away the suit echoed in his dreams and he hoped to never hear that despair again) but this was different. Uncontrollable. 

"You're okay. Please, please believe me that you're okay." Tony begged. He had no idea what to do, but he was pretty sure if the kid didn't start breathing properly soon, he'd be unconscious. "Peter." He pulled Peters hands up, placing them against his chest. "Feel that." He sucked in a deep breath. He let it out. "Do that. Try...try to do that." 

Peter tried. He breathed in but it shuddered and got stuck in a way that sounded painful. 

"Here." He pulled one of Peters hands away, the other still pressed to his chest. Gently, he flattened Peters palm against his own chest, Tonys hand resting on top of it, Peters hands now above both their hearts. "Time it. Feel it." A shudder. "Breathe." 

Peter scrunched his face up, trying to stop the tears that were blinding him. Two heartbeats, both too fast, but one was steady, the other erratic. Two chests, expanding and contracting, one smooth, the other jumpy. 

Make them equal. He told himself. You like it when things match up. So make them match up. 

He forced himself to suck in air, felt it burn as his body resisted. He did it again. He looked up, and Tony was there, holding his hands in place, looking at him, just looking, with a concern he only ever got from Aunt May. 

In. Out. 

God, this was embarrassing. Telling Tony about the panic attack was bad enough, but to have one in front of him. It made Peter want to curl up and die. Made him want to don his suit and be someone else for a while. Made him want to disappear into the city, appearing every so often on the backdrop of the buildings, moving too fast to be seen. 

In. Out. 

He could feel the tears drying on his cheeks, turning sticky, tightening his skin. Would he ever live this down? 

In. Out. 

"There you go." Tony whispered, feeling Peters breaths start to loosen. But he didn't move, didn't change his grip on where he held Peters hands to both of their chests. "Just breathe." 

Peter closed his eyes and focused on the feeling. In. And out. He sniffed, and it was a miserably pathetic sound. God, he didn't even know why he'd panicked. Tony hadn't done anything. He just wanted to talk. And yet, here he was, losing his shit over it. 

When he could finally, finally, breathe normally, he gave himself a moment with his eyes shut to come up with some way to explain this, before opening them and facing Tony. 

Tony, who hadn't moved, who squeezed his hand, who had a question marking his features. "You okay?"

Peter nodded. Was he? He had no idea. But he nodded. "Yeah." It came out croaky and unconvincing, and Tony did not look like he believed him, but nevertheless, he released Peters hands and moved, frowning at his knees as he stood from the awkward squat he'd been in before. 

Instantly, Peter missed the comfort of Tony's skin on his, and the feeling threatened to work its way up his throat to stop his breathing again. When Tony sat beside him, placed an arm around his shoulders, and pulled him tight into his side, he swallowed the feeling. 

He fit quite nicely against Tony, his head resting on the joint between neck and shoulder, and it made it easy to again match his breathing to that of the older man. 

They sat, Peter snuggling closer and closer to Tony every few seconds, until he was sure that Tony wasn't going anywhere, and he pulled his feet onto the couch, tucking them beneath him. 

"I'm not..." Tony began, trailing off, and if Peter could see his face, he guessed it would've been sad. He sounded sad. "I'm not good at this part. The 'taking care' part. I can't even take care of myself, much less a...you." 

"You don't have to take care of me."

"Yes. I do." There was a firmness in his voice that said this point was non-negotiable. Peter was too tired to negotiate anyway. "I brought you into this, I...I did this to you, and I have to be around for all the scary bits that come after. I just don't know how to."

Peter bit down on his lip. His throat hurt. "You know this isn't your fault, right?" He felt Tony shift beneath him, wriggling, not away, but to get comfortable. "You didn't do this to me."

"I gave you a suit, put you up against Captain-Fucking-America without telling you why, released you into the world letting you think you were ready for that level of heroism, and then took the suit away when things got messy." He sighed. "I don't like mess."

"No one likes mess, Mr Stark." 

Peter could feel Tonys heart beating against his arm. He'd read all the reports released after Tony had been rescued, remembered the tense months where the government pretended they were making progress on finding the missing billionaire, and he knew the bare details of what had happened in that missing time. The arc reactor implanted in Tonys chest was a new thing. The media loved it. Peter thought it was interesting, until he found out why it was necessary. Still, it comforted him to know that something that had been so violently destroyed could still work. 

"Tell me how to help you." He said. "Because the phone therapy obviously didn't work for you."

Peter almost laughed at that. He had tried to call, one time, when his anxiety had gotten monstrously bad. But the thought of talking to someone he didn't know about all his personal, fucked up issues had made it exponentially worse, and he'd spent half an hour curled in a ball on the floor, his phone shoved as far from him as possible, as if touching it would kill him. 

"I..." What could Mr Stark actually do? "This is good. This is helping. You knowing is helping. The training is helping. Seeing you every few days is...it's good." 

Tony breathed, something between a laugh and a sigh, and rubbed at Peter's arm. "Okay." It wasn't enough. Good wasn't good. Tony needed Peter to be better than good. But for now...it would have to do. Until he could figure out how to be better at helping, better at observing, better at having a kid around, good was the best he had. "We can work with that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, uni, work and all that shit.   
> Nyway, your comments give me life, ily.


	6. (Not) Small Revelations

"Alright, I think that's enough for the day." Daniels stepped back from Peter, sweat gleaming over her body. They'd pushed themselves hard today, and even though Tony couldn't see Peters face, he was guessing it was bright red. Even with his superpowers, his chest was heaving. 

"No, no, no, I can keep going." Peter heaved, lifting his fists. 

"Well, I can't. I'm done Spidey." Daniels grinned, wiping at her face. "Maybe you could bribe a round out of Wylder, but I don't know how much faith I'd put in his sparring abilities. Remember that we're from different divisions," She raised her eyebrows, "but I've still heard of the time he got into a fist fight and broke his own nose. It was fucking legendary." 

Peter fell into step beside her as she walked away from the sparring ring. "How do you even break your own nose?" 

Her smile was deviously wicked. "Got so excited to be in an actual fight that he put too much swing into a hit, tripped over and on his way down, bloody punched himself in the face."

"What are we talking about?" Wylder sat on the floor, several not-for-civilian-eyes textbooks spread around him, a mess of highlighting and illegible notes all through them. 

"People who are shit at sparring." 

"Ah." He nodded, oblivious to their giggles. "I'll have you know, my sparring powers were feared in my division. No one dared go up against me." 

"Wow, really?" Peter asked with such an earnest voice that Daniels almost believed he was being serious. "That's impressive."

"Nowhere near as impressive as you though." Wylder said, staring at his notes, sounding almost wistful. "I've been doing basic assessment comparisons," He pushed a piece of paper towards the two people standing above him. "And you are off the charts. Like, monumentally off. I mean, of the super-beings that we actually have data on, and that's not many, by the way, because most super-beings aren't cool with tests being done on them, so really the only one I have any actual readings of is Captain America, or, wait, what are they calling him now? The N-"

"Matthew." Daniels cut him off, gesturing to the piece of paper. "Your point?"

"Your stronger than Captain America." 

"No fucking way." It slipped out before Peter could stop it. Tony's head whipped towards them. His bad language was rubbing off on him. He'd have to learn to hold his tongue.

"Yes fucking way." Wylder grinned. Tony sighed. "And, we need to remember that both before and after receiving his serum, Captain Rogers was given formal military training, and then was in the actual military and then, after being frozen and all that shit, was given professional rehabilitation training, and then some more modern fight training, and then worked as a bloody Avenger, so he's had basically all the training the world has to offer."

"He beat me, though." Peter said. "In Berlin, with all the...fighting. I went up against him, and he beat me."

"Did you not just hear that bloody list?" Wylder jumped to his feet. "How much training have you had? Besides, ya know," He gestured proudly between himself and Daniels, "what we've taught you."

Peter glanced at Tony, but Tony couldn't see his eyes under the suit, and he was standing a few feet away, pretending not to listen. "Um," He crossed his arms over his chest. "None."

Daniels eyes grew to twice their normal size. "Hold the fuck up. You mean you were out there, fighting off guns and knives and cars and all that shit with no training? Like, at all?" 

Peter toyed with the fabric of his suit. "Um, yea."

"Shit." Wylder stared at Peter, and, even after all the formal time they'd spent together for him to make professional observations, Peter had never felt more scrutinised. Tony saw, then, in that moment, that Rhodey had chosen the right people. He saw their faces shift, and knew that they knew, knew that this person, this spandex clad human who the world deemed a hero, was just a kid. Wylder had only dared ask him once, after hearing Peter speak, how old Spider-Man was. Tony had silenced him with a look and a reminder of his Non-Disclosure Agreement, and that was that, but it lingered in the atmosphere of the training room, and now, with this admission, Tony knew there was no going back. 

Spider-Man was an untrained teenager. And they both knew it. 

And neither of them said anything. 

"Well, that makes you even more impressive." Wylder stuttered out, plastering his usual dopey grin on. "If you and Cap had the same level of training, you would've kicked his ass."

Peter gave a short laugh. "I don't think it's possible for anyone t-"

"Kicked. His. Ass." 

"Okay." Everyone in the room snickered, heading toward the couches. "Any other amazing discoveries you've made about me?" 

"Um..." Wylder trailed off, flicking through his textbooks again. 

"You're memory retention is incredible." Daniels said, throwing herself on a couch. "You've learned the basics of a six-month air-force self defence program in two months. At a higher level of skill and strength than most graduates. But I don't know if it's a factor of your abilities or you're just, you know, a genius." 

"He's just a genius." Tony said, making room next to him for Peter to sit. "Born that way."

"I don't know if I'd call me a genius." Peter leaned back into the cushions, stretching his legs out. "I mean, my friend MJ, she's a genius, she's beating me in every class and-" He slapped his hand over his mouth. 

"Jesus kid, how the hell has no one found you out yet? You are shit at keeping secrets." Tony rolled his eyes, giving Peter a pat on the back. "Also, I think I'm gonna start a swear jar round here."

"Nuh uh." Daniels shook her head. "Bad words are one of my few joys in life. You can't fucking take that away from me." 

"Wait, wait, wait." Wylder glanced at Peter. "Are you underage? Cos if I've been swearing my head off around an underage kid-"

"Wylder." Tony glared at him, Peter fidgeting uncomfortably between them. 

"Right." 

"What's going on in here?" Rhodey's head poked around the corner. He was trialling his new braces (trialling was a fairly relaxed term; they were perfect and Rhodey knew it, but as always with Tony, he trusted nothing to care for his best friend until he was sure it was foolproof) and thought it was about time he checked in on the training. 

"Spidey can't keep secrets, Tony swears too much and Wylder is terrible at sparring." Daniels smiled. Wylder let out a screech of protest. 

"Well, I knew the last two." He strode in, standing tall, arms crossed over his chest. He paused beside the arm of the couch, his shadow falling over Peter. "But considering he's managed this whole secret identity thing, for what, almost a year now?" Peter nodded. "I think he's doing alright." 

"You've been going at this for a year now?" Daniels asked. Peter chewed his lip. 

"Why do you all think I'm terrible at sparring?"

"Not a priority right now Matty." 

"Actually," Tony cut in, "Maybe it should be. Maybe we should talk about this."

"I don't think-"

"No, no. Don't think."

Peter could hear it then, the strain in Tony's voice that existed only in matters directly concerning Peter. It sounded remarkably similar to the strain that had plagued Aunt May in the few weeks after he'd been dumped on her doorstep, then appeared again after Uncle Ben died, and had recently re-emerged for situations when Peter was being a Teenager™. 

It was both terrifying and comforting, to hear it from Tony. 

Terrifying, because it meant he had gained yet another person who didn't want to lose him as much as he didn't want to lose them.

Comforting, because it meant Tony didn't want to lose him. 

And Peter didn't want to be causing the strain that tugged in his desperate attempts to steer the conversation away from Peter's age, and Peter's name and Peter's life outside of the suit. And when he thought about it, giving Tony a break was well worth the cost of what he was about to do. 

He pulled his mask over his head. 

"Egh!" Tony leapt forward, grabbing at Peter's hands. "What-what are you-what the fuck-"

"It's okay." Peter smiled, squeezing Tony's hand, before placing the mask down beside him. "I trust them."

Tony looked him in the eye, with more intensity than Peter was used to. He didn't say anything, but the question was there; are you sure? Peter nodded, let out a shuddering breath, and Tony moved back, settling into the couch once more.

"I'm-uh-my names Peter." He said, facing the two trainers, who stared at him, shock, and disbelief, and maybe something like awe written in their gaze. "I'm 15." 

When Daniels mouth dropped open, lips moving to form a word, the other three people in the room could've predicted it before the sound actually made its way out. "Fuck." 

Rhodey let out a laugh. "Yeah, when Tony finally told me about the kid, that was one of the first words out of my mouth, too."

"Fif..." Wylder shook his head. Shook it again. "No. No, no, no." 

"Buddy, if you keep shaking your head like that it's gonna fall off." 

"You've been doing this for a year, which means unless you're literally about to turn sixteen, you started jumping in front of speeding fucking cars and sharp fucking knives when you were fourteen fucking years old and, I mean, when I was fourteen, I was - I was - I was - I was staring at the hot boys in my class not going on some-"

"Matthew." Peter smiled, that small, vulnerable thing that made Tony's chest tighten in a good way, and then he shrugged in a way that was so, so, so very young and the tightening was less good. "I stare at the hot boys too. Spider-Man's only part time."

Rhodey scoffed. "Alright, stop it before you give Tony a heart attack, you underage nitwit."

There was the sound of Daniels slapping a hand over her mouth, trying to stop the giggle that threatened to emerge at her hearing one of the most respected Colonels in the world calling someone a nitwit. 

"And with that," Tony stood up, knowing that he would be awake for a very considerable time after all of this, "I think it's time to call it a day."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sup ya'll, sorry for the wait. Life, as you know, takes precedence. 
> 
> But...important question; where do you feel like this story is going? Or where do you want it to go?   
> Ya want Thanos? Reunion with the Rogue Avengers? Keep it in the Iron-Fam? Drop everyone in the middle of the Caribbean? 
> 
> Obvs, I have a basic idea and outline and all that, but if there's anything you specifically (or generally) want, drop a comment, I'll see if it fits <3


	7. May-Day

"Tony?" Happy stomped into the room, holding his phone to his ear. "It's the kid, he needs to talk to you."

"Is he okay?" Tony practically leaped from his seat, his knee banging on the table, all but ready to call for a suit and fly to wherever Peter was. 

Happy frowned. "He's fine, just wants to ask you something. Chill."

"Oh. FRIDAY?"

"Redirecting call."

"What's up kiddo?" Tony nodded to Happy, who nodded back, then walked back out of the room. 

"Hey Tony!" He sounded excited, jittery, nervous, Tony couldn't tell. "I-uh-I wanted to ask you something, if, um, if, well-"

"Just ask Pete."

"Can May come and watch one of my training sessions. She's kinda freaking out, cos there's that new footage of me stopping those gang bangers and-"

"Wait, what gang bangers?" He flicked open a screen, and searched for all news stories of the Spider-Man. Sure enough 'Spider-Man Takes on Queens Spiders Gang', 'Arachnid Civil War' and 'Spider-Man Fights Local Gang Members' flashed for his attention, all with accompanying footage of his spandex-clad teenager fighting off eleven very large, knife wielding men. "Jesus bloody shit kid, what were you thinking?" 

"Huh?" 

"What the hell were you thinking? Taking on that many armed guys alone?"

"I was thinking they were picking on three girls who were trying to get home from school and when I told them to back off, they didn't."

Tony scratched his face, unable to take his eyes off the footage. Peter flipped around, dodging every punch, every lunge, eleven guys reaching for him at once, not a single one landing something even close to a hit. One minute and nineteen seconds. That was how long it took, for eleven men to be webbed to the ground and the wall, a pile of knives to be webbed a safe distance away, and Peter on the phone to the police. 

"You didn't get hurt."

"Nah, not even close." There was definitely excitement in his voice. "But May saw the footage, and she wants to see one of the training sessions, because she said you promised her you weren't training me to fight, and now she's kinda pissed. Is...is it okay if she comes?"

"Yeah, of course." He could already hear the conversation he was going to have with May, but it was probably long overdue. "I'll have Happy swing by and pick her up after he gets you from school, yes?"

"Yes, that's perfect, thank you, Tony. Thank you so much."

"Yeah." The footage played over and over, Peter dodging those men, their desperation, the fury on their faces when they missed. "But kid, do me a favour?"

"Hm?"

"Stay away from gang bangers for the time being."

"But what if-"

"Please." 

There was a few seconds of silence and Tony geared himself up for an argument, then "Okay." And he felt like he could breathe.

"Okay. Good. See ya on Thursday kid."

"See ya Tony."

Fuck. He was in for it. 

He thought that maybe he'd been acting strange in the days leading up to the training session, because even though he didn't ask for them to be there, Pepper and Rhodey both appeared before Happy arrived. Normally, one would hang around, the other doing some of their professional work, both usually there because it was a comfortable place to be. 

But today, for some reason that wasn't set forth by Tony, they were both loitering around the foyer, trying to act casual. The trainers arrived, gave the pair a strange look, but Tony shook his head, then pulled them aside. 

"Peters aunt is coming in today. To observe."

"Huh?" Wylder raised an eyebrow. Tony sighed. Deeply. 

"Peters aunt, his legal guardian, is aware of his extracurricular activities, and the fact that he receives training in this building two afternoons a week, but recently the little idiot decided to fight some big time assholes and she saw the video, freaked out, and now wants to see what it is that you're teaching him. So she's coming. Today. To observe." 

Daniels nodded. Wylder looked more confused, but nodded too. Tony gave Daniels a look, and she took her companion by the arm and dragged him towards the training room. Tony could hear his voice as the door shut, mumbling something along the lines of; "I don't understand, why is she coming?"

"Oh! Wow, this building is a lot bigger up close." 

Tony spun. Peter was pulling May into the foyer, Happy a few steps behind, Pepper and Rhodey already stepping forwards to greet them. 

"Hey Pete." Rhodey stuck his hand out. Peter beamed at the mature treatment and shook his hand vigorously. 

"Hey Rhodey. Colonel." He faced his aunt. "May this is-"

"I know who he is, sweetie, I do watch the news." She stepped forward, extending her hand. "It's nice to meet you Colonel. Thank you, for your service." 

"It's my pleasure, ma'am."

"Oh please, just call me May."

"Of course." He smiled, then stepped back, giving Pepper room to introduce herself, and turned to Tony. "You know I trust your judgement." He said under his breath. "But are you sure this is a good idea?"

"What else would you have me do?" Tony asked quietly. "He's a minor, she consented to the training, but she could just as easily un-consent, and I am not letting that kid out in the world as a superhero without giving him the training he needs. If this is the way to keep him safe, then yeah, it's a good idea." 

Rhodey blinked, studied Tony's face for the briefest of moments, then gave a small, reserved smile. "Alright, then." 

Tony moved towards May. "Hey. Good to see you again." 

"You too." She said, but there was resignation in her voice that hadn't been present last time they'd met. Of course, last time, he'd been single and flirted endlessly, and she was in the dark about her nephews propensity to throw himself into dangerous situations. So maybe reservation was allowed. 

Pepper sidled up beside Tony, her hand resting on his waist. "I was just about to ask May if she'd like something to eat."

"I'm fine." She smiled at Pepper, then looked to Peter, who was bouncing on his toes. "You hungry, Pete?"

"Hm? Oh, no. I ate at school." He gave her a grin, one that Tony wasn't familiar with (there was excited grin, happy grin, I-just-got-an-A-on-my-homework grin, Tony-let-me-drive-his-car grin, and then the normal one he wore pretty much all the time. This one was obviously reserved just for May. Tony filed it away with the others), and she nodded. 

"Okay." Her arms crossed over her chest. "So, what do we do? How does this work?"

"Well, just through there," Tony pointed to the doors, "is one of the training rooms. Peter's two trainers are in there, if you'd like to meet them before their session begins. And then, we'll get started. Go about our day as usual, and you can sit back, relax, all that."

She nodded. "And these trainers, how qualified are they?"

"Ma'am, I-" Rhodey started. 

"May."

"May, I personally selected these two trainers out of a handful of air-force members, based on what I believed to be suitability for Peters case and ability for discretion. They're as qualified as they come." 

She seemed to soften a bit there, shoulders relaxing. "Alright." Peter jumped forwards, backpack over his shoulder. 

"I'm gonna go change, I'll see you in there." Before anyone could say anything, he bounded off towards the bathrooms, either extremely eager to get started, or trying to escape the tension that was radiating off of May. 

She sighed, adjusted her glasses, and marched towards the training room doors. Pepper rubbed her nose against Tony's shoulder. "I like her."

"Of course you do." He said. "Have you ever met a woman you didn't like?"

"Well, Maya wasn't so great after she had me kidnapped, but otherwise..." She shrugged, grinning cheekily, "No, not really."

"Mm." Tony gave her a small push, urging her forwards. "You gonna watch her eviscerate the trainers, or do you have work to do?"

"I can spare an hour."

"Okay." 

Rhodey stalked ahead, rolling his eyes as they kissed, but soon, they were following after him, into the room.

"You must be Iris." May had stepped forward, her shoes discarded so she could walk on the mats, her hand pointed at Daniels. "Thank you, for your service."

"Captain Iris Daniels." She nodded, shaking May's hand. "How do you do, ma'am?"

"Good. I'm good." May took a deep breath. "Peter's told me a lot about you." She turned, and Wylder was geared up, ready to introduce himself. 

"Lieutenant Matthew Wylder." He shook, maybe with a little too much enthusiasm, but she seemed to appreciate his happiness. 

"Thank you, for your service." She said, glancing around the room. It was a little daunting, Tony supposed, the entire space made for improving ones ability to save the world. But it was a necessary kind of daunting, even if Peter was one of the only people using it these days. 

Peter stepped out of the bathroom, wearing his suit, the mask clutched in his hand. "Hey." Everyone whirled to face him, and he let out a giggle. "Sorry, that was just - you were all - at the same time, it, it - you looked kinda funny."

Tony bit his lip to stop his smile. "Come on over and let's get started, yeah?" He looked to May for confirmation. Did she really want to do this? Her shoulders heaved and it almost looked like she was blinking back tears, but nevertheless, she motioned for Peter to come forward as she went and sat on a couch. 

It was uneventful, really, Daniels going through the usual routine, explaining things in the same way she had when she'd first begun with Peter. Then Wylder took over, doing his assessments and observations, narrating out loud instead of taking notes, FRIDAY recording everything he said, as they went through Peter's strength-control regime. 

Uneventful. A normal Thursday for all of them. 

Except for May. May's normal Thursday was breakfast, work, home, wait for Happy to deliver Peter safely to her arms, make Peter eat something before he crashed. 

This Thursday was terrifying. 

Her nephew, her son, really, was powerful, she knew. She'd seen him be powerful, on the news, too many times to count. But this was different, to see him having to prepare himself for all the dangers he would face, inevitably because he was Peter and he threw himself towards the danger, but he was also Spider-Man, and already, his fame was growing and there was a rising amount of expectation being placed upon the Queens hero. 

He had to be ready. She knew that. 

But god, it was hard, to know that the things he learned here would be applied in the real world. This wasn't just training. This was life-saving in advance. 

She stood, probably a little too abruptly, but she couldn't help it. Peter was watching her, she knew, but he didn't stop his training. No one tried to stop her when she stalked towards the exit, trying to hide the fact that tears were growing hot in her eyes, and wandered out into the open area. 

"May? Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa, you don't wanna go in there." Tony stepped in front of her, blocking the door she was about to open. She didn't know where she was going, really, she just knew she had to be away from that room. "That's the way to the hangar bay, and anyone who goes in there without authorisation gets tasered, so let's not have that happen, yeah?" He laughed nervously, guiding her away. 

She tried to respond, but only a slightly choked sob made its way out. He stiffened considerably beside her. 

"I thought...uh, I thought you were angry at me, or something. Not-"

"Oh, I'm angry." She sounded a little menacing, even with mascara running down her cheeks. "I'm so, so angry, I just can't-" She sobbed again. "I can't-"

He studied her, waiting. This was something she needed to say, something he needed to hear. Peter couldn't continue having a relationship with him if May was resenting him every second of every day, and Tony couldn't let himself be a sore spot that got in the way of their family. May and Peter needed each other. He knew that. But he also knew that Peter needed to be trained, and he couldn't let that not happen either. So whatever thoughts she had needed to be voiced, if only so this aspect of Peters life would be a little smoother. 

"He's a kid." She finally got out. "He's just a kid. My...my kid, Tony. He's too young to be doing this kind of thing, too young for this to be necessary."

"Would you rather he get no training at all?"

"I'd rather he stopped this idiotic business all together!" She cried, tears still pouring. 

Tony chewed on his lip. "If you asked him, genuinely, to stop, he would. You know he'd do anything for you."

"I know." She said, lip wobbling. "And that's the stupid part. I don't know if it's okay for me to want him to stop, because I see how much good he's doing, how many people he's helping, and I feel so damn selfish for wanting him to be safe all the time." She bowed her head. "How is it selfish to want my son to be safe?"

He placed his hand on her arm. "It's not." 

"I really don't like you, you know." She muttered, but she leaned into his touch, inching closer. "I saw that goddamned footage from the airport fight. He had nothing to do with that situation and you just...dragged him into it. You lied to me." 

"I know." He swallowed hard. "I'm sorry. For my part in all of this, I am sorry. The decision I made was selfish and probably didn't have enough thought behind it. But it's been made, and now it's up to you, because I will defer to you, on how to handle the now. I know I'm a genius, but even I can't change the past. So we gotta deal with what we got." 

Slowly, she moved closer, and her head dropped onto his shoulder. "So we'll deal." She said quietly. "But you can't lie to me anymore. Never again."

"Okay."

"He can keep training." She muttered into the fabric of his suit jacket. "But I don't want him going on anymore of those goddamn missions. No taking him to Germany, or anything like that. Not until he's at least eighteen."

"Okay."

"And all these rumors. About the...the ex-members of the Avengers. That there might be a change in the Accords and they might be coming back. I don't know if I'm comfortable with him being around them."

He sighed and shifted, forcing her to move off of his shoulder. May stared him in the eye, intensely, unwavering. "We'll handle that if it happens." 

"Okay." 

Tony managed the barest of smiles. "What do you say we cut training short for the day and we all sit down and eat something? Normally we eat after, but the trainers leave pretty quick, so if you had any questions, we could handle that now."

"Sounds good." She took a deep breath, rubbed her hands down her cheeks to remove the mascara trails and turned back towards the training room. 

Tony ordered Chinese food. Partly because he knew Peter liked it, partly because he didn't particularly feel like cooking, but mostly because he enjoyed seeing the delivery mans face when he was escorted down the drive to the Avengers facility and greeted by Tony Stark. (He always gave excellent tips, so it's not like the shock of those few minutes went unpaid.)

"What did you two do before joining the air force?" May asked, pushing a container of honey chicken towards Peter. He served himself a large helping, more than half of the container, then shoved it to Rhodey. 

"Nothing, ma'am." Daniels said, shovelling rice into her mouth. "I finished high school and signed up."

"At eighteen?"

"Yes ma'am. Never wanted to do anything else." 

"Please, it's just May. No need to call me ma'am."

Daniels smiled then, and even though she had a pea stuck between her teeth, it was radiant. God, she enjoyed this assignment. Then she turned to Wylder, who seemed oblivious to the entire conversation, too focused on dousing his entire plate in chili sauce to hear. She nudged him.

"Hm?" He looked up and surveyed the table. 

"May asked what you did before you joined the air force."

"Oh!" He grinned. "I went to college, got my masters and then my PhD, and then I was recruited. Didn't actually sign up, but saying yes was, like, the best decision of my life."

May nodded. "Where'd you go to college?"

"Princeton." He mixed his chili sauce into the sauce for the three different kinds of beef he had on his plate, creating a brownish sludge. "What about you, Peter? You planning on going to college?"

Before Peter had time to open his mouth, both Tony and May said, "Yes," then looked at each other rather sheepishly. 

Peter let out a small laugh. "Ah, yeah I guess so. I mean, I'm only a sophomore, so I've got time to think, I guess." 

"Well, Princeton is great." Wylder winked. "I've got plenty of connections there."

"He," Tony coughed, "will be going to MIT."

May raised her eyebrows. "Will he now?" Peter ducked his head. That tone of voice usually had him with eyes averted and an apology on his tongue. But Tony held her gaze, a smirk tugging the edge of his lips. May's eyes didn't budge. 

Peter glanced between the two of them and he knew there would be either food flying across the table, or very harsh words coming Tony's way, and he wasn't sure which option was worse. Neither of them stood down. 

Eventually, Pepper tugged on Tony's arm, whispered something in his ear, and he rolled his eyes, retreating from the battle. May looked at Pepper in thanks, with victory. 

Wylder bit his lip, holding back a giggle at their silent fight, Peter still meekly avoiding looks. "So, I guess that one's still up for discussion." 

Daniels smacked him on the arm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gahhhhh, you guys are awesome. There were heaps of comments, so I tried have this chapter up as soon as possible to say thanks. 
> 
> General consensus was for Rogue Avengers (insert sly faced emoji here), so I guess we'll see how that plays out. 
> 
> Also, special shout out to TheLonelyDwobbit, Lidoshka and Mialeigh1327. Your comments made my day <3


	8. First Da(te)y Off

Tony really couldn't complain about it. Seeing as it was his idea. 

Technically. 

It was technically his idea, but when it comes to things you really don't want to do, technicality flies out the window and all you want to do is complain. 

Peter had asked for an afternoon off. From training. Which, in the three months training had been going on, he'd never done. He protested, loudly and with a lot of sighing on the afternoon Tony had taken one look at his face and declared he needed sleep. He refused to skip training when May insisted he had too much homework ("I'll catch up on it later." "And when exactly is later?" "...When I don't have training."). On the rare occasion that training was off for the day, it was through someone else's doings, and at the annoyance of Peter. 

So when he asked, asked, if he could skip the Monday session, Tony had, with a severe amount of anxiety, wanted to know why.

"Um..." The silence that followed went on for a little too long for this to be about something simple. 

"Is everything okay? You didn't get hurt on patrol did you? Because, Peter, I swear to god, if you're trying to hide injuries from me-"

"No! No, it's nothing like that." Tony could hear Peter scratching at the back of his phone. He really needed to find him a better therapist. "It's, well, it's kind of, like, I have, there's just something, I need the time, cos, you know,"

"You're saying words with no meanings, Pete."

"I...have...a date."

Tony released a breath. He wasn't dying. "A date?"

"Mm." Tightness echoed through his voice, and Tony knew this was a big deal. If he was being honest with himself, his high school dating experience was not something he looked back on fondly. Mostly just drunk shenanigans with regrettable people who gave his father an excuse to berate him. But the kid was obviously nervous, which probably meant he was excited, and hell, he deserved to be a normal teenager for once. 

"Okay." 

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I'll just...text Iris and Matt, tell them that you don't love them anymore and-"

"Ha ha." Boy, his sarcasm was improving. "But, you're sure it's cool?"

"Yes, kid. You're allowed to have a life."

"Okay. Thanks Tony."

"No problem." He waited for the empty silence that came with a phone being hung up, but it didn't come. Instead, Peter remained on the line, his breaths punctuating through the speaker. "You...you wanna tell me about the lucky person who's going on a date with The Peter Parker?"

"It's MJ." He said, almost immediately. "Mine and Ned's friend. Michelle. But she likes to be called MJ. She threw a paper plane at my head during decathlon practice last week and I thought it was just paper, but it wasn't, it had writing in it, and now we're going on a date."

Tony smiled, jealous of the softness in Peter's tone. "So she asked you out? With a paper plane?"

"Yeah, she's weird like that."

"But you actually want to go out with her though, right?"

"Yes!" He almost yelled it. "Sorry. I mean, yeah. I like her. A lot. I just...didn't know if she liked me back, you know, like that. And I'm glad, you know, that she asked me out first, cos I think if I'd asked her she would've said no on the principle of not conforming to the patriarchal societal standards that say men have to be in charge of all that stuff and you know, I'm happy but I-"

"Again, saying things without saying them."

"I don't know where to take her."

Tony shook his head. "I thought she wanted to be in charge of that. Not conforming and all that."

"She's really busy. You know, she's decathlon captain and is part of like, three other clubs, and said that I could pick where we went." He hesitated. "Actually, I offered cos I know how busy she is, and then she got a little mad cos she thought I was saying she couldn't handle it, which she absolutely could, but then she calmed down and said sure, as long as it's not something boring. And she's only free on Mondays."

"Mm hm." 

"And, you know, she's...she's just so brilliant, and I don't wanna take her somewhere boring cos she deserves something brilliant, and I just...I don't wanna screw this up. But I have no idea where to take her." 

Tony scratched his cheek. "This is the chick who figured out your Spidey secret right?"

"Yeah, she says she overheard mine and Ned's conversations. And that there was no way someone as scrawny as me got that ripped that quick without some kind of help. And please don't call her a chick."

"Right. Girl." He sighed, going over possibilities in his head. "Why don't you just bring her here? She can check out the lab, quinjets, cars, anything you like, and then I'll have Hap drive you both to a restaurant or something."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, I mean, she likes all this nerdy shit like you right?" He smirked. Apparently Peter knew him well enough to hear his smirk over a phone.

"Hate to break it to you Tony, but you invented all this nerdy shit, so you have no grounds to mock either of us."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. So, yes or no?"

"Yes. Please. I mean, I gotta ask her first, but probably yes." There was a quiet moment. "I should warn you though, she may, I mean, if she sees you, she might have a go at you. Just, cos she's very socially aware and will probably have some issues. But don't worry. She hates Captain America more than she hates you, so it'll be fine. Probably." 

"Good to know, kid."

Or not good to know. Didn't really matter if it was good or not, because Tony couldn't complain about anything that was happening because it had been his fucking idea. And now, he was standing in the very large foyer of his very large compound, having a stare down with a very tall girl. 

Peter stood to the side looking very sheepish but slightly proud. 

Seconds continued to tick by, but she refused to drop her gaze. Never one to shy away from a challenge, he lifted his chin and raised an eyebrow. No response. Just her very focused eyes staring directly into his. 

Peter shuffled his foot against the recently cleaned floors. 

Peter coughed. 

Neither of them shifted. 

"Can uh...can one of you explain what's going on here?" He asked eventually. 

"You tell me." Tony said, eyes still stuck on MJ's. 

MJ's responding eyebrow raise held so much aggression, Peter knew that if it was aimed at him, he'd be running. Or apologising. Or both. 

"Tell me, Tony," She finally said, arms crossing over her chest, "what made you think it was okay to drag a teenager into an international combatant dispute?"

"His great haircut. Makes him look older."

"Wow, sarcasm. Definitely a good show of maturity."

"Um, guys?"

"To be honest with you I wasn't really thinking about his age at the time."

"So, it didn't matter that he's underage and you broke the law in removing a minor from the country without the permission of his legal guardian?"

"MJ-"

"I was a bit caught up in the fact that my teammate had just become a war criminal."

"Ton-"

"Then it was a selfish choice."

"More like an only choice."

"What, you couldn't destroy an airport alone? Needed a fifteen year old to get pounded into the pavement to help you?"

"I didn't think there'd be a fight!" Tony closed his eyes and took a deep breath in. He didn't see it happen, but MJ's posture softened. Just a little. Just enough for Peter to notice. Tony scrubbed a hand over his face. "There wasn't supposed to be a fight. No one was supposed to get hurt. Especially not..." He glanced at Peter, then back at MJ. "It was supposed to be a simple collection of international criminals. No airport destruction. Things don't always turn out the way we want them to."

MJ stared at him for three, four, five seconds, before shrugging. "Okay." She stepped up to Peter, taking his hand in hers with confidence. "Come on, you said you were gonna show me around this stupid place."

"Uh, yeah." Peter smiled widely, a deep flush sitting on his cheeks, either from embarrassment at the conversation or shock at MJ holding his hand. Or both. As he walked towards the lab, MJ striding beside him, he turned over his shoulder to glance at Tony. 

Tony gave him a thumbs up and a nod of approval. 

He told himself that he'd leave them be, give Peter the room to let the date play out, with no interference. But the entire time he sat in one of the smaller living areas, alone with a glass of scotch, some small voice tickled at him to check in on them. 

He knew they wouldn't get into any kind of trouble. Peter was far too boringly responsible to try anything stupid with Tony's tech. Hell, Tony was more likely to create a mess in the lab than Peter was. But still, something told him that maybe, just maybe, he should make sure they were okay. 

"FRIDAY, bring up security footage from wherever Peter is right now." 

"Sure thing, boss."

The video popped up in front of him. They were still in the lab, but apparently the tour had finished. 

MJ was propped up on one of the stools, a pencil in hand, drawing something on a very large piece of paper. Peter was standing across from her, elbows on the bench, chin in his hands, watching her. She was too busy concentrating on whatever it was she was drawing to see the completely gone look in Peters eyes, the smile sitting right on the edge of his lips, the most peaceful expression Tony had seen on him in, well, ever. 

She shifted and let out something like a laugh, before holding up the piece of paper to show Peter. He stood up straight, hand banging on the counter. She didn't seem to notice. "It's Stark." 

Peter's head tilted to the side, before his mouth cracked open in a wide, amused grin. Tony was glad the camera was pointed away from MJ, and he didn't have to see whatever monstrosity she'd drawn to represent him. 

"Nice." His smile remained as he looked down at his hands, which were toying with the buttons on his shirt. "But he's not actually that bad."

She dropped the piece of paper. "He gave a fully weaponised suit to a fifteen year old and did nothing to show you how to use it."

"It wasn't fully weaponised when he gave it to me though. Ned did that bit. And it was my idea."

"Your monumentally stupid idea."

He huffed. "Yes. Stupid idea. But he's showing me now."

"Mm."

Something in Peters face changed, gained a serious edge that hadn't been there before, as he stepped around to the other side of the counter to stand beside her stool. "Do you actually not like him, or is it just part of the whole tough girl act you put on?"

She groaned and spun on the stool to look at him. "There is no tough girl act, Peter. There's just me. I thought you were cool with the way I am, but if you're not-"

"No!" He shook his head violently. "No, I...I didn't mean it that way." He winced, searching for the words. "I just meant...I know you. Or at least, I know you better than other people. And...and other people think you're weird and mean sometimes..." She crossed her arms. "And that's fine, because you don't have to be anything but yourself. But I know that there's this part of you that's kinda...you know, softer. And that's the part you don't show to many people. But I've seen it. And I like it. Just like I like the rest of you. But sometimes I can't tell if the things you say and do are, you know, you, or just what you want people to see."

For a moment, she didn't move, eyes trained on him. He kept staring at his hands. Then, slowly, she slid off the stool and stepped up in front of him, as close as she could get without touching. She towered over him. With one hand, she tilted his chin up to force him to look her in the eyes. 

"Everything you see," She said, her hand still resting on his chin, "is me. There's no fake part. The...soft bit, though. That bit I only show to people I really care about." 

His eyes flickered, lighting up a little. Then he frowned. "So, you actually don't like Tony?"

Her hand shifted upwards, her thumb brushing over his jaw, before her palm settled against his cheek. Peter's breath caught in his chest. "He got you hurt. I don't like that."

"I thought you would've been more concerned with his past in selling weapons."

"Oh, no, he's done great things since he shut down that company. Can't help what you inherit, right? Plus his relief program has one of the best structures in the world."

Peter smiled softly and leaned into her touch, eyes closing. She chewed on her lip. Her thumb rubbed a soft line across his cheekbone. Slowly, he turned his head towards her hand, lips pressing the softest of kisses against the base of her palm, brushing slightly against her wrist. 

Her fingers strayed upwards and played with the curls beside his ear. 

He gazed up at her, and if Tony ever had to pick an expression to describe adoration, that was it. He almost felt guilty for watching. Almost.

"You wanna..." Peter whispered, as if speaking any louder would break the moment. "You wanna go see the quinjets?"

She smiled. "Sure, Parker."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND WE HAVE MJ!!! YAYAYAY
> 
> Soz, but she was legit one of the best parts of the movie, and I'm super pumped to see more of her. Hopefully this does justice to the small glimpse we got of her character in SMH. 
> 
> (Also lets remember they're fifteen, so the date's gotta stay fairly innocent folks)
> 
> <3


	9. According to the Accords

When Peter got to school, he could practically feel something buzzing in the atmosphere, the conversations, the general mood of everyone. God, he hoped it wasn't another Spidey video. Last week he'd miscalculated and went all but splat against the side of a building. Ten million views in two hours. He reached for his phone to check, but remembered he'd run out of data three days ago.

Besides, he couldn't remember doing anything particularly embarrassing on patrol in the past few days. He guessed he'd find out what all the fuss was about later as first bell rang and he bolted to class. 

Later turned out to be immediately. 

"I know, I know you're all excited over the news, but as this is a maths class, I'd appreciate Avengers talk to remain to a minimum, so, you've got five minutes to discuss before I start the lesson and expect your full attention." 

Peter's head whipped around the room, trying to grab snippets of conversation. He nudged his desk partner. "What happened with the Avengers?"

She frowned at him. "Haven't you seen the news?" She pulled out her phone, clicked a few things and shoved it towards him. "They're rescinding the Accords. Or rewriting them. I don't know. Something. But the Rogue Avengers might be able to come back. In like, a week."

He scanned the article. A statement released by the UN about the future of the Accords and powered individuals had confirmed there would be some serious revisions that would take place in the next week and allow temporary clemency to any peoples being prosecuted on the grounds of the Accords, pending review. 

Temporary clemency. 

They were allowed to come back. 

Of course, there was significant risk if they did. If the review didn't go in their favour, they'd probably end up being prosecuted again. And the entire world would know where to find them. Peter wasn't sure how he was supposed to feel. 

"Crazy right?" Said his desk mate, taking back her phone and turning towards their teacher.

"Yeah." He muttered. "Crazy."

The day was a blur of shared news stories, teachers giving up on diverting attention and very obviously photo-shopped images of Captain America returning the country in various eccentric ways. (Peters favourite was the one of Cap riding a dinosaur.) Ned questioned him endlessly about it. 

"So he hasn't said anything about it?" 

"Nope." 

"Nothing?" 

"Nothing. At all." 

"Hm." He slumped back in his chair. "But, like, wouldn't he have been a part of this? He signed the Accords, so he should know about it if they're ending them."

Peter sighed. "He probably does know. He just didn't tell me about it."

"Oh." Ned reached across the table to steal a chip of Peters plate. "Are you gonna sign the Accords? Or whatever they come up with to replace them?" 

"What?" He frowned. "No. I'm not an Avenger."

"Yeah, but you have sup-" MJ kicked Ned under the table and he winced, before glancing around and continuing in a hushed voice. "You have superpowers. So shouldn't you be signing it or something?"

"Peter's a minor." MJ said, chewing on a candy bar. "He can't sign a permission slip, let alone an internationally binding protection act." 

"Does the Accords have a section that states minimum age for a powered person to be considered dangerous?"

"Can we not talk about this?" Peter snapped, and immediately felt bad. "Sorry. I just...I don't wanna think about this right now. Can we talk about the group assignment instead?"

Ned nodded, looking guilty. "Yeah."

MJ ran her hand down his arm, studying his face, and let their hands meet. He gripped her fingers tightly. 

"Ugh. You two are gross."

"Jealous much?" MJ laughed, but there was nothing in her words. 

"Whatever. Let's talk this assignment."

It was lucky the news came out on a Monday, because Peter didn't think he could contain his questions for very long. Tony greeted him at the door with his usual Tony-ness and Peter could barely get out a reply before the first question exploded out. "Did you know about the Accords changing?"

Tony blinked. "Um, maybe. Why?"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because they have nothing to do with you." 

"It has something to do with me if the Avengers are coming back here."

Tony chewed on his lip. "Look, kiddo, Iris and Matt are waiting. Can we talk about this after?"

"You promise we'll actually talk?" 

"Scouts honour."

"You're not a boy scout." Peter slumped and began to move towards the bathroom. 

"Wait, wait, wait." Tony shoved a pile of fitness clothes into Peters arms. "No suit today. You've grown too reliant on Karen and all the fancy crap. You gotta train without it, just in case, you know, you're ever in a situation without your suit."

"Okay." He left Tony in the hall. 

Halfway through the session, Rhodey leaned over and asked Tony if there was something wrong with Peter. He seemed to be lagging a little, glancing at the time displayed at the back of the room too frequently to be normal. Iris managed to land a hit on him twice. "He sick?"

"Nah. Just moody and distracted."

"I thought he'd be in a good mood. Haven't you just finished his new suit?"

"Didn't tell him that yet. Plus, Kitty wants to be here when I give it to him."

"You've gotta stop calling a sovereign 'Kitty'."

"Uh huh."

Rhodey shook his head. "What's distracting him?"

"The Accords." Tony chewed on his fingernail. "May told me a while back that she didn't want the...others around him. If they come back, I don't know what I'm supposed to do, and he's got questions. What do I tell him? What's too much for a teenager to hear?" 

"He's a mature kid, Tony. I think he can handle the news." Rhodey considered his friend, the hard lines of concern clouding his features, the rigidness of his posture. "Plus, I think he'll appreciate the truth."

"Mm." He kept biting his fingernail. 

Iris hit Peter a third time and frowned. "Focus, Pete." 

"Sorry." He mumbled. 

When time was up, instead of begging for another round, or bouncing over to Matt for an update, he slumped towards the bathrooms, without saying a word to anyone. 

"He alright?" Iris walked towards Tony and Rhodey. "I know he wasn't wearing the suit today, but that was monumentally pathetic. For him." 

"He'll be fine." Tony said, standing from the couch. "Just got some stuff we gotta talk about."

"To do with the Accords?" Matt asked, his foot tapping nervously. "Because, if things are about to change, and we're gonna become, ya know, redundant, because the fucking Black Widow may come back to train him, I'd like to know, cos my boyfriend wants to move to Michigan, and if this contracts over, then it might not be such a bad idea, and-"

"Nothings changing. For now." Tony tried to smile reassuringly. "Don't pack up your house just yet." 

Matt and Iris both nodded, but it was with less than convincing belief, and packed up their stuff for the day. 

Rhodey decided the conversation about to be had would go better if they were alone. He left with a small pat on Tony's arm, trailing after the trainers. 

"Before we start this conversation..." Tony turned to Peter, who was slouching against a wall. "What do you want to eat?"

"Nothing." 

Tony sighed. "Come on kiddo, don't pull the moody teenager act on me now."

"I'm not hungry."

"You're always hungry." 

Peter scuffed his foot against the floor. Tony watched him, saw Peters eyes lift, not fully looking to Tony, his eyes fall, lift again, then mutter, "Can we have pizza?"

"Sure thing."

They sat on the couch in silence, two feet away from each other, until the pizza arrived. Tony let Peter shovel his way through three slices before starting. "First off, you need to know that in all talks of the Accords, both last year and recently, your name has not once come up."

"My name?" 

"As in Peter." Tony tapped the edge of the couch. "Your identity is...well protected." 

"King T'challa found out who I am." Peter took a massive bite of his fourth slice. "But the governments of the world can't?"

Tony scratched his cheek. "There may have been a few, um, removals of certain publicly accessible files regarding a superhero operating out of Queens." 

"You made it impossible for anyone else to find me, didn't you?" 

Tony took a conspicuously large bite of pizza. Peter tried to hide his smile. 

"Anyway, as I was saying, you're not a part of the Accords. As Peter. But as Spider-man, you technically fall under the jurisdiction of the Accords as a powered individual."

"So I have to sign them?"

"No, no, no, let's not get ahead of ourselves." Tony scooted a little closer. "The Accords are becoming a little more...lenient. Less focused on a prosecution of powered people, and more on evaluation and training." 

"Training? Like what I'm doing now?"

"Yep. The Accords are going to move to assist powered individuals in finding ways to use their powers that are both productive and safe." 

Peter chewed on his lip, a seventh slice resting on his knee. "So...everything you've been doing for me, it's just you following the Accords?" Tony may have imagined it, but it sounded as if there was slight disappointment in the kids voice. 

"Nope." He shook his head. "Actually, this training thing gave me the idea for the amendments. Really, Pete, you're the inspiration for the new and improved Accords."

"You helped write them?"

"I was...called upon to assist."

"Uh huh." He sat back in the couch, staring at the wall opposite them. "What, um...what's it gonna do for, ya know, the...the others?" The familiar stutter that signified Peters anxiety had Tony resting his hand on the boys shoulder.

"Let me make this clear right now." He said, looking Peter in the eye. "Whatever happens with the former members of the team, nothing is going to change your place here. You understand?"

Peters jaw clenched, but he nodded. 

Tony waited a moment. Peter remained silent. "You got any other questions?" 

"Nope." He chewed on his fingernail. "Yes. Am I allowed to tell May all of this?"

"Most of it's about to be public information, and I had a very long phone call with her this afternoon about all of it. And I'm sure you and her are going to have an...interesting discussion when you get home. And I have promised to agree with any decisions she makes, so listen well to what she has to say, okay?" 

"Alright."

He smiled, then moved his hand to ruffle Peter’s hair. “We’ll get through this kid. And I’ll try to be a little more transparent next time, kay?”

“Okay.” Peter smiled, a very small, tight expression. “Thanks Tony.”

“You’re welcome, short stuff.” 

“We’re almost the same height.”

“Mm, sure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyy sorry for the disappearing act. All of yall who have continued to comment have fueled my return <3
> 
> Enjoy this addition :)))


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